


Floating On Darkness.

by EzraScarlet246



Category: Revenge (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mid Season Finale, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:01:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraScarlet246/pseuds/EzraScarlet246
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily floated on the surface for what seemed to be an age. She could feel the bullet wounds in her gut aching, and wondered just how bad it was. She knew she had to fight, swim, live! But really, all she wanted to do was sleep. Takes place after the mid-season finale</p>
            </blockquote>





	Floating On Darkness.

_Where am I?_

A murky darkness spread out around her, shifting, tumbling.

_It's dark. Why is it so dark?_

Her face dipped below the surface for a moment, before once again rising to the surface. She choked on the salt that entered her mouth. The aching feeling in the back of her throat bought back her awareness. And with startling clarity, the memories on the yacht burst back into her mind, unyielding.

_Dammit. Of course things had to go wrong. Bless my luck._

She felt tired, and faint. Distantly, she noted that was probably because of the blood loss.

 _C'mon Em's,_ A voice said, sounding very much like Nolan.  _You gotta get up Em's. We're all worried for you. You gotta get up._

She tried, she really did. But the ocean seemed to be taking what little strength she had left with it.

_C'mon Emily. You've got to get up. You're not some prissy socialite, you are Emily Thorn. Where's that girl that used to pay off the guards to get her a bottle of whiskey? You've got to get out of here, and finish the job. You've got to avenge your father._

This voice, surprisingly, was Amanda's. Amanda's voice was loud and clear, giving her purpose to keep going. Emily knew what she wanted, knew what her goal was.

And not even a couple of bullets to the gut were going to stop her from achieving it.

But what was she supposed to do? Where was she supposed to swim?

_After the shot goes off, you've got twenty minutes until the border patrol comes looking. Get to the buoy, grab the suitcase with the snorkeling gear, and get under the surface._

Aiden's voice commanded her, giving her a goal. And so she swam. She swam towards where she knew the buoy to be. And when her hands finally scraped across its red, metallic surface, no greater relief had she ever felt. With one last burst of strength, she vaulted herself up onto the buoy, and laid down to rest.

When she finally came too, it was still dark. Her strength returned, she ripped off her dress, under garments, and cast it into the ocean. Now, she was able to survey the wound easier. The two wounds (from where the bullets had entered) still bled. However, the bleeding was slow, and now that she had been out of the water for a while, the blood had been given time to dry. Emily knew very little about how to treat bullet wounds. She knew that the salt water might help with killing any bacteria that might be in the wound, but that was about it. And the moment, there was only one (or two, depending how you look at it) things that Emily wanted to deal with at the moment.

Those two bullets in her gut.

It wasn't the smartest move, nor the sanest. But in times of shock, things like that don't tend to matter to us.

Biting down, Emily went to work on the first bullet. It was buried deep into her flesh. As her fingers dug, harsh screams of pain escaped her lips. She dug through skin and muscle, trying to find the bullet. Many times she had to pause to catch her breath, her eyes scrunched in excruciating pain. Finally, her fingers closed around the metal casket of the bullet, and with a viscous tug, she ripped it out. Her scream ripped through the air, echoing into the dark expanse around her.

_Like a bandage. Just like a bandage._

Her breathing was labored and coarse, but eventually she managed to get it under control. However, when she had forcefully ripped the bullet from her gut, she had managed to only make the bleeding worse. Any process of crusting over that the wound had taken was washed away as the blood came gushing out of her.

Emily's head was light and dizzy.

_Maybe pulling out that bullet wasn't such a good idea after all._

But there was no use fretting over it now. What's done is done.

However, as Emily drifted off into darkness, her thoughts plagued with nightmares, she couldn't help thinking.

_I knew taking that bullet out was a stupid idea. I knew it. So why did I do it? Why did I?_

Her mind drifted off, pondering.

 _Maybe,_  her own voiced answered her,  _it's because you don't want to fight anymore. Maybe, it's because you're tired. Maybe, you actually wanted to die._

 _No you don't,_ and this time, it was Jacks voice.  _You've lived for so long. Don't give up now._

So clouded with darkness was her mind, that she never even noticed when red and blue lights flashed throughout the air, or shouting voices and the crackling of radios interrupted the silent night.

No, her mind was too busy taking a much needed rest.

**Author's Note:**

> I most likely will be continuing this story whenever I can find the time. Comment, Kudo's, or whatever it is you do. I'm new to this site, I usually frequent Fanfcition.net, so I dunno. Hope you liked it!


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